Kintla Flatlands ₐｗₒₒₒₒₒ!

Grandmother sang. Father sang. Caracal was not the only to hear the voices calling, its howl, it's stirring of the world as the glow of the moon cast upon their world. Malakai pushed on his twin, rousing him from sleep. Jud, @Judah! He pressed his nose firmly into his brother's rib to get him awake. It's God...! He loud whispers and gets up, waiting no longer for his twin as he comes to his father's side and he too sings out to the heavens to their creator.

Tucked between Badger and Glee, their heads resting against Maia’s soft belly and their own stomachs full of rich milk, Frolic wanted for nothing. It had been another day full of adventure and discovery, reality finally beginning to catch up to her wild imagination.

But now rest was in order, at least until a mysterious howling began outside the den. Frolic sleepily cracked open an eye, tiny ears pricking as the howls picked up momentum and volume. Goosebumps prickled the puppy’s skin beneath her fur. She rolled away from her siblings.

Waddling to the den’s entrance, Frolic rubbed at her eyes, then gazed at the sky. The moon was there, along with myriad stars. For some reason, the toddler thought the howls were coming from the heavens themselves. Her black tail wriggled as she smiled at the distant callers, letting out a single, tiny yip of her own.

From the seaside Aiolos heard the voice in the heavens. Where the goddess Moon shown over the waves of Goddess Sea. The moon bathed him in light. The sea washed over his legs and around his body as it laid on the beach. Aiolos did not know whom spoke out to him, but felt deeply in his chest that it was one of those Goddess which he so worshipped. They had chosen to speak to him. His voice caught, throat tightening. His gut fluttered with butterflies. Aiolos is just as compelled as the rest and so rising his muzzle to howl in happiness.

Arrluk does not know the voice which calls to them, to sing out with joyous. Maybe it is the spirits his mother tells them. Maybe the sea or moon goddess father prays to quietly to himself. He creeps from the opening of the ulaq, to view the full halloween moon above. And then a chorus stirs, voices, howls, of wolves he knew ans those he did not. The whole of the lands coming together to sing and so, the killer whale sings along with them.

Naberius did not spend his time to wonder who the voice was nor where it came from. It sang out through the night, calling the wolves of the wilds. Some in slumber, some on patrol, some in the night hunt. 

Naberius himself pranced from the red castle of his home and out into the open plains. The world sang! Whatever God it was, it didn't matter. Naberius was only happy to hear do many in these lands singing in rejoice. In moments, the sand wolf too was howling among them.

The song reaches the coast and the cliffs. It is a cry and a harmony all the same, a song of life and death, and everything in between. Astera answers with her own howl, or the closest thing she has. It is a mix of a yelp, and a whine, but yet it still adds to the growing chorus.

Willow had a number of adventures of late, many of which being positive for the oft-lonely man, and so when he heard the first tendrils of song on the wind he wasn't bothered by it. One by one there were voices joining in. He didn't know them — and they came from all over the place!
Any other moment, he would've quailed at the thought of sharing his voice. He knew it wasn't the right voice; that it was too high, too soft sometimes, and as a result he rarely sang. In this case, surrounded from every direction by the voices of strangers all singing without abandon, he felt a little different.
So what if his voice wasn't quite right; these people didn't know that, they didn't know him. There was no reason to be nervous — and well, he was feeling good right now. So he drew in a shaky breath and raised his chin, and out of his effeminate little throat came the voice of the girl he wished he could banish forever.
But it was his voice, regardless. It — he — deserved a place among the chorus.

Simone lifted her head when she heard the first voice call out, distant and faint as it was. More joined, and when the song was raised in a chorus, she sat up and elbowed @Cethleann to listen in as well. Her ears flicked forward and back as she identified countless voices- some singing, some celebrating, some howling perhaps for the very first time. 

A familiar voice joined in, and Simone's features lit up. She looked to Ceth, as if to make sure she was correct in identifying Willow's voice in the mix. Not that it mattered anyway- the chorus was stirring, and Simone too would lend her voice to it.

At first, there was one. Then two. Then five. Then ten, twenty, thirty; all directions, all pitches of voice. Peering out of her den, shuffling to the clearing just beneath the evergreen canopy, her ears flatten and a grimace sours her face.
It's so. Goddamn. Loud.
She wants to yell for peace and quiet, but something in her soul tells her not to, and for a while, she only listens, before her head is thrown back in song. First quiet, merely a whisper, until it crescendos into a thunderous call to the heavens above.
Singing was her namesake for a reason.

The gods sing over Akashingo tonight.
Climbing from her chamber and through the tunnels, she lopes out into the flatland until the Mesa is within perfect view. Perhaps it was celebration of their victory over Greatwater, perhaps it was the Gods sending her a sign, or purely coincidental. Word carries easy in the Wilds! And Zaahira can't help but let a thin-lipped grin cross her features.
Bending to touch the earth below, the Mazoi plants a kiss to the land of her true saviors before her own head is tossed into a primal call. It is gruff and spiritual, instinctual and full of the fire of a thousand suns.
And for a moment, she thinks of Selena. She hopes she can hear this, from wherever she is.

Mid-step, the man froze as the first howl pierced the air – a far-reaching, almost otherworldly, sound that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. Before long, other voices responded to its joyous call. At first, a cacophonous mixture of noise, but each individual cry quickly melted together to create a melodious symphony that echoed across the lands. 

Among them, he swore he recognised some familiar voices; Rannoch and Liffey had told him they would be here. His ears pricked, swivelling in all directions as he strained to pinpoint exactly where they had come from. However, with the chorus as large as it were, his endeavour was fruitless. A lone wanderer though he were, Fergus still missed his siblings, and longed to be amongst familiar faces. 

As the wolves of the Wilds sung their song to the moon, the Frostfur felt his spirit stir. Without hesitation, he threw back his head to add his own melody – an all-at-once blend of elation, excitement, as well as serving as a beacon for his siblings, hoping to reunite with them once more.

"What is it? Who is that? What-" Ponyboy heard the beginning of the howl but paid it little mind as he continued to chew his way through a stick from the lake. But when the howl continued, and more voices were added to it, he abandoned the stick and stood up to listen, tilting his head to the side. There were so many voices, it was almost impossible to figure out what they were saying, or why they were saying it. His tail wriggled, and before he could receive any counsel whatsoever he tilted his head back and added his voice to the growing chorus as well-

but Ponyboy chose that moment to be dramatic, to make his voice as ridiculous as his vocal chords would allow, whilst uttering as much profanity into his message as possible.

Bronco was nearby when he heard his son's questions, but he listened, rather than responding. Like his son, he too was intrigued by the sudden, spur-of-the-moment constellation of howls. They came from everywhere, as far as he could tell- North, South, East, West- it seemed like everyone who heard, was joining in. He was reminded sadly of the howl conversations he had with Killdeer, the only way he could really communicate with his son from time to time, so that he could give Fennec enough space. 

He hoped to hear Killdeer's voice among them- but instead, his mischievous palomino child decided to half-howl, half-yodel, and string in a number of foul syllables as well. "You little Donkeykong," He said, rushing over to clamp a paw over his son's mouth as he chuckled. His son giggled and bit at his pawpad. "None of that language, bug. If you wanna howl, howl like me- see if you can howl louder 'cause I bet you can't," He said, before he pulled his son to his chest, forcing him to hear up close just how loud his father could really howl.

Years of Hunting had honed his body into a sensitive tool. And the minute that the world quivered in otherworldly energy, was the second he lifted his head from fire paws. Yellow eyes peered around as he tried to grasp exactly what was happening, and he couldn't. However, a drum beat of a heartbeat and he innately knew. Lifting brown head. He let out a small howl that grew as he stood. The sound mixing with other's nearby.

Somewhere in the distance, Ashlar heard the resounding sound of a howl, one with multiple voices. Sudden hope lifted him as he listened, but in the voices he picked out he didn’t hear the one he was looking for. Nor did he hear anyone familiar to him at all, so far from the Rise.

He still lifted his head and joined in regardless, his voice lifting musically over the wind. The bard sustained this for a moment and then turned to continue his path, pursuing the hope of finding any trace of his best friend.

She would likely think him weak for abandoning their children to the care of the pack and following her. Yet he had never let that stop him from doing the things he needed to do before.

The sound of the howl was stronger than any he had heard. Even in the distance it rang clearly, telling of many wolves - more wolves than he could possibly imagine. It made him wonder, what were their stories, why were they howling. It filled his chest with air and when he tipped his head back he did not hesitate to let out a raspy high pitched answer to the call. One day he would see more of the world and perhaps he would meet some of these faces. Joining into the symphony made him feel grown up and a part of something in a way not quite like being part of his pack or his family but still connected. So despite its youth his voice was strong as it rang out into the night.

Heph was exploring when she heard the call - her first thought was to Moontide and she almost rushed back. But it was not a voice she recognized nor was it urgent or panicked or even a request. Instead it felt like an invitation. She did not know what had started it or compelled it but even from where she was she could hear the voices that joined and she tilted her own head back and let out a long sonorous note - adding her own to the mix hoping for others to hear. It tugged at her legs, urging her to run and see, everything.

The distant psalm awoke him; A chorus of voices lulling. Smiling, the sickly boy shed the stagnant air of his den in favor to hear more. And resting his head upon a decaying log, he closed his eyes and listened closely.

A wonderful song.

Voices called out in the night, echoing off the mountains, lilting over the valley grasses, and whistling like wind in the trees. One took up the tune, and another, and another. Louis, on his solitary walk, paused to gaze up at the moon.

Strangers, these songs. Or if he knew any, they were obscured by the parade of answering mysteries. But something in his heart tugged. As a child his family would lift their noses to the starlit sky and call out for kin. Miles and miles apart on the endless tundra, they would find each other nonetheless. Though the spaces between them were vast, you could always come home again.

Practically he knew he was too far away for them to hear him, here. He had crossed an expanse to find places untread by his kin. No on else would be listening for his voice. Yet something tugged and ached in his heart nonetheless. Some kind of sorrow. Some kind of hope. 

A short, hoarse yip broke loose from his chest. And then a high, sharp howl that lilted with the breeze ruffling his fur.

The calls echoing back might be strangers. Maybe one day those tales would twine with his, or maybe tonight would be the last they ever heard of each other. Either way, they were each of them a story. And for a moment, for a night, for forever, they were none of them truly alone.

She heard them, breathless even as she was nudged by Simone. Her siblings! They were here! Her smile grew so wide she felt the pull of muscle, to the point of an ache. But she wasn’t one to resist, oh no, she would respond.

The world thrummed under her feet like a living thing. Cethleann flashed her girlfriend a wide, toothy smile, before throwing her head back and howling along with her.

Flick. Flick. Flick.

Shemesh’s twitching ears fanned sideways, then shot straight up into wakefulness. Wolves were howling in the distance, their song interrupting her restless sleep. She yawned, her jaws parting so the moon could see all of her off-white teeth, and tilted her head to the side; what was all the commotion about? Shemesh thought it was a single pack at first, until more voices joined the chorus from the opposite direction.

Moonlight filtered through the canopy and onto her awed face, having never heard anything like it before. She pushed herself back onto her haunches and listened. Even further away than the long, melodious wolf howls, Shemesh swore she could hear yipping coyote calls and even the higher-bitched baying of dogs. Shemesh wanted to sing too! There was no master to quiet her here, and only instinct to guide her.

Even if she was a dog sleeping at her master’s side tomorrow, she was a coyote braving the wilderness tonight. And shouldn’t a coyote sing?

Shemesh threw her head back and joined the wilds’ call. Maybe her master could hear the music, wherever he was — and maybe he would recognize her voice in it all and shout into the heavens too.

There was a different feeling to the air around her on this day. She lifted her head and sniffed. No scents she didn't recognize. But there was this innate feeling, she couldn't describe it. She looked around for her mother or her sibling. Anyone that could help her puzzle out why she felt suddenly stretched thin and cagey like she had to do something. Something important.

Finding no relief, she lifted her tiny head and let loose a little howl and then another, until her tiny melodic song found that of all the other's and floated upon the tides of winds of change.

Briar's eyes snapped open. Lifting his head he looked upwards through the trees. The patches of night between the branches overhead oozed a luminescence that rimmed each leaf like frost. His heart had quickened once he woke and he sat with bated breath. Something was amiss.

The world seemed silent until a call resonated through the air. Many other voices rose to answer. The instinct to join loosened his chest, allowing air back into his lungs. And with a strained voice, he tipped back his head and joined the song. Out of practice he lay have been with that sort of thing.

Something even the bard wasn't used too was communal howls. So when one reached his ears he lifted his head. Ears quivering as they went to and fro. There had been something on the air lately. He could feel it there deep within. He briefly wondered about not howling. he still felt out of place, but also wondering if it wouldn't be bad luck not to try. 

So with fully body he lifted his head and let his song ring out clear and deep as a bell. The sound reverberating off the mountaintop as it went down, down.

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Deep in sleep he moved. His legs running, running. A low whine in his throat and then suddenly he woke with a start as the sounds of his nightmares came crashing down on him. Good lord what was caterwhauling? Was it something dying? Or dead already? Zombie wolves? Maybe, perhaps. No of course not.

Was Akavir out there getting his rocks off, because if so they really needed to have a conversation about the proper etiquette for moans, because he just wasn't sure if the man knew what he was doing if the sounds that were coming down from the flatlands were anything to go by. But he had to cheer the old boy on didn't he?

So he lifted his head up and howled out a note, full of laughter and a teasing note to it.